


11/11

by Autobratty



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Sexual Seal Breaking (Transformers), Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-02-01 18:03:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12710115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Autobratty/pseuds/Autobratty
Summary: There are some dates you don’t forget.(For my amica.)





	11/11

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> I originally wrote this last year but totally forgot about it! Made some minor edits and changes, and here we are.

Drift had been making himself rather scarce that week. Rodimus knew he liked his alone time, but this was getting a little out of hand. The only times he would see the other speedster were for mandatory meetings, and even then, he didn’t always show up to those (not that Rodimus always did, either, but that was besides the point).

He was getting a tad worried.

Alright, maybe more than a tad. Drift was his best friend! And when your best friend locks himself away for a week, one can’t help but worry.

That’s what led Rodimus to Drift’s habsuite, knocking on the door apprehensively. “Drift?” he called out, hoping he’d be heard through the metal slab. “You in there?”

The door slid open, revealing a disheveled-looking swordsmech. His armor was scuffed and dull, he looked like he hadn’t recharged in days, and his finials were drooping back in a manner that Rodimus recognized as sadness. “Drift…? What’s wrong?”

Drift gently took Rodimus’ hand and pulled him inside.

Once the door slid shut, the habsuite fell into almost total darkness, save for a couple of candles burning around the room. The room itself was in such a state of disarray, even _Rodimus_ was appalled - this kind of nightmare zone probably would’ve sent Ultra Magnus into a frenzy, and it was more than likely that he’d quarantine the room.

Rodimus carefully stepped over a puddle of spilled energon. It stank and looked as if it were half-processed - he tried not to consider that it was probably purged. With a shudder, he took a seat on Drift’s berth. “Dude, what happened?”

Just when he’d thought those finials couldn’t sag any lower, they did - Drift looked ashamed of himself. He stood a couple of feet away from Rodimus, avoiding his gaze. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and gravelly, the voice of a mech who hadn’t used his vocoder in days.

“I’ve already told you about growing up in the gutters…and you get that, because of growing up in Nyon, yeah? You had a lot of, um, bad stuff happen to you, too.” Rodimus nodded, brows drawing together in further concern. “Well, um…”

Drift stared up at the ceiling, as if willing Primus to swoop in and save him from this situation. In a voice barely audible, he choked out, “Tomorrow is the anniversary of the day my seals were taken.”

The usually-fidgety Rodimus stiffened, his optics flaring. He’d forgotten - they went through this same conversation last year. His face heated with embarrassment, while his eyes still shone with sadness and empathy.

“Oh, Drift. I forgot. I’m so sorry.”

Drift shook his head. “I don’t need your pity,” he replied, a little more curtly than he’d meant. “I’ve gotten better, stronger since then. I’m a different mech, and Primus knows that I will never, ever let that sort of thing happen to me again.” Rodimus nodded again, understanding. While people often seemed to forget he’d had just as rough as an upbringing as Drift, they’d gone through many of the same hardships. The only difference is that while Rodimus had been picked up by Optimus, Megatron had been Drift’s “liberator”.

“But…” Drift gave a little sigh, finally meeting Rodimus’ eyes. “It still hurts, you know?”

Rodimus stood, and closed the distance between them. He enveloped his best friend into a tight embrace. “Yeah,” he whispered against Drift’s neck cables. “I know.”

They stood like that for a while, just clutching onto each other as if they’d fall apart if they let go of one another. Drift was the first to pull away. “So,” Rodimus began tentatively, maintaining contact with Drift by holding his hands. “Do you still want to do the thing we do every year, or…?” He chewed his lip and added hurriedly, “It’s totally okay if you don’t want to.”

Drift shook his head and squeezed Rodimus’ hands. It was so like Rodimus to forget the date, but then remember exactly what they did on it. “Of course I do. It…it helps.” Rodimus nodded in understanding.

“So, you already had Ratchet install it?”

“Yeah. I got it done yesterday.”

“Good, good.”

An awkward silence stretched between them, even though the two mechs still held each other’s hands. After a minute or so, Drift stepped forward into Rodimus’ personal space and rumbled softly, “C’mon. Let’s go lie down.” Rodimus nodded, following his partner’s lead onto his soft berth. When Drift lied down, Rodimus carefully crawled on top of him.

“Rod, seriously, you don’t need to be so delicate with me. You’re fine with roughhousing with me any other day of the year.”

The former prime gave a small shrug accompanied by a sheepish smile. “Yeah, but this is different. It’s supposed to kind of, I don’t know…simulate how your first time should’ve been, right?” Rodimus cupped Drift’s finials, stroking them softly. The other mech’s optics slid shut as he began to purr. “You deserved to have been treated with the utmost care and gentleness.”

“Mm, Rodimus,” the swordsmech murmured. “You’re so good to me.”

Rodimus pressed a kiss to Drift’s forehead, gently grasping the sensitive finials. “Only the best for my best friend.”

As Drift began to kiss him back, Rodimus released his head fins and slid his hands down the other’s powerful frame to wrap his arms around the knight’s slim waist, pulling their bodies flush together. Drift hummed against his lips and hooked his ankles around Rodimus’ knees, locking them together. They kissed slowly, unhurriedly, in no rush to get this over with.

This was, according to Drift, a sacred ritual, one in which traumatic memories were meant to be written over with pleasant ones. And thus, every year on the same day, Rodimus would indulge him, wanting to help Drift in any way he could. Understanding that this was, on some strange level, therapeutic for Drift, Ratchet would install a false seal inside the white mech’s valve before he and Rodimus would perform the “ceremony”. It wasn’t Ratchet’s favorite task, but Rung had given clearance that this was indeed helping Drift recover from his trauma, little by little, and there was no real harm in it, so the grumpy medic agreed to it begrudgingly.

It felt sacramental to Rodimus, too. He didn’t share quite the same beliefs as Drift, but they could agree on that. When they coupled in this way, Rodimus felt like he was taking part in something bigger than himself, bigger than either of them. 

Rodimus broke the elongated kiss to breathe against Drift’s lips, whispering, “If your body was a temple, I would worship every day at your altar.”

The knight would’ve replied, but the hot rod was already kissing him again, kneading at the other’s red-and-white striped waist. “But,” Rodimus continued to murmur as their lips parted, gazing deep into Drift’s optics, “your body is not a temple. Temples can be destroyed and desecrated.” He kissed a line down Drift’s chin and neck. He nipped at one of Drift’s thicker energon cables before licking and sucking on it. “Your body is organic, like a forest,” the captain rumbled, “because you always grow back, no matter how many times you are devastated.”

The uncharacteristically reverent words from his lover, coupled with the attention to his tender neck cables, caused Drift to moan. His grip on Rodimus tightened, their interface panels bumping together. “Nn, Rodimus,” he breathed. The scarlet mech shushed him before locking their lips together once again. He rolled his hips against Drift’s, letting the charge between them build slowly. He wasn’t going to rush this.

This wasn’t for him. This was for Drift.

It felt like an eternity passed as they kissed heatedly, passionately, and ground their panels together, so charged up that literal sparks passed between the two of them. Drift finally broke the kiss, gasping into Rodimus’ mouth, “Please, Roddy. The seal, it keeps the charge bottled up… I n-need-”

Rodimus shushed him again, and pecked his cheek. “I know, Drift,” he whispered, brushing his lips up the side of the other’s face to kiss a pointed finial. Drift sucked in a sharp breath. “Trust me. Let me take care of you.”

“I trust you,” Drift gasped. “And you always do.”

With a smile, Rodimus reached a hand down between them and rubbed at Drift’s panel, the metal covering immediately snapping back to reveal the white mech’s valve.

Biting back a groan, Rodimus carefully slid two fingers in, pushing them as deep as he could before his digits tapped the seal, about ¾ of the way into Drift’s valve. The knight gasped and jerked, but Rodimus gave him a soothing kiss. “It’s okay. You know I’ll go slow with this.”

Drift bit his lip and nodded. “I know, I just… bad memories. It’s hard to get rid of them, even after all this time.”

“I know,” Rodimus replied softly. He caressed the inner walls of Drift’s valve, trying to get his partner to relax. “I know.”

It seemed to be working. With a semi-contented sigh, Drift sagged back against the berth, his stiff body practically melting into the mattress, eyes fluttering shut.

Rodimus smiled, inserting another finger. His field bloomed with affection. “You look so beautiful like this.”

Drift’s cheeks heated immediately, and he covered his face. However, Rodimus would have none of that. He tutted disapprovingly before using his free hand to peel Drift’s hands away from his faceplates. “Nope, nuh-uh. Right now, you’re going to let me look at you.” He leaned in closer, lowering his voice, and murmured into Drift’s audial, “You can hide your face later, when I flip you over onto your knees and plow you into the mattress.”

A loud moan escaped Drift’s mouth, and suddenly he was clutching Rodimus’ arms with all his strength, sure to leave dents, but Rodimus couldn’t care less. He inserted a fourth finger and pressed deep into Drift’s valve, pressing up against the seal. This time, Drift’s noise was of pleasure rather than pain.

“Please, Roddy,” he whimpered.

Rodimus’ spike immediately sprang free in response to his lover’s plea.

He slowly withdrew his fingers from Drift’s valve before grasping thick red-and-white thighs, pulling them apart and scooting further between them before settling them atop his own. Rodimus lined his spike up with Drift’s valve, gently rutting between the other’s arousal-swollen folds. His fire-colored cock throbbed with the need to push into the white knight’s valve, feeling it clench along the underside of it as the bright red biolights along the white valve lips pulsed with need. Rodimus bit back a moan, rubbing Drift’s wide hips as he rocked their bared arrays together.

When Drift let out an impatient cry, Rodimus finally shifted his hips up, and guided his spike into the awaiting valve.

The white speedster moaned loudly as his Prime slowly pushed the tip of his spike in, almost immediately retreating. Rodimus rocked in and out of Drift’s valve in short, shallow movements, groaning himself at the slow pushing-and-pulling sensation. When Drift’s hips bucked in his grasp, trying to take more of him, Rodimus pressed his hands downwards, pinning the other’s hips to the berth.

“Roddy,” Drift groaned, his voice taking on a deeper, more gravelly note that he knew drove his lover crazy. “C’mon…fuck me.”

That did the trick. Rodimus gasped and pushed in until the tip of his spike kissed the valve seal. When Drift whimpered, his hips stilled.

“Drift?”

“I’m okay,” the swordsmech gasped, peeping one optic half-open. “Please…keep going. Do it.”

Rodimus bit his lip and nodded. He gave a few more long, deep thrusts into Drift’s valve before pulling out almost all of the way, until just the tip of his spike was resting just between the puffy valve folds. “Ready?” he asked, waiting for assent.

“Ready.”

With that, Rodimus thrust in quickly, pulling Drift’s hips forward to his own as he did so, snapping the seal in one quick motion. Drift screamed, arms flying up to grip Rodimus’ shoulders, but the scarlet speedster kept thrusting, until the pain in his field melted away, replaced by arousal, trust, and love.

“Ngh… Roddy… Please… _Harder…_ ”

After the initial slowness was over and the seal had been broken, Drift always wanted Rodimus to _really give it_ to him. And who was Rodimus to deny him what he so desired?”

Rodimus hiked Drift’s legs up higher, pushing them slightly further apart, and picked up the pace, pulling Drift’s hips into each of his thrusts. He grit his teeth as he began to fuck Drift in earnest, the other speedster’s frame bouncing from their coupling. Tears and drool began to stream down Drift’s face as he completely gave himself over to pleasure, scrabbling at Rodimus’ chest with blunted claws.

“Fuuhhhhh… FUCK! Oh, Roddy, ngh, that’s… ohhhhh yeah, that’s it, right there… oooooh Primus, fuck me…”

Rodimus chuckled deeply, giving a particularly hard thrust. “That’s - ngh - the idea…”

It wasn’t long until Rodimus felt the walls of Drift’s valve begin to spasm, gripping his spike tightly. He had to work harder to thrust his thick cock into the clenching, dripping heat as Drift neared his peak. The orange biolights lining its length pulsed wildly.

“R-Rod… I’m so c-close… Please… Mmf… fuck me harder… Make me yours.”

Just the way Drift said it pushed Rodimus over the edge. He thrust his spike as deeply as he could into the knight’s valve, striking the other’s ceiling node and toppling them both over into an intense overload.

Rodimus gritted his teeth and did his best to thrust through it, attempting to draw out Drift’s and his own pleasure as long as possible as the mech under him sobbed in pleasure, his field exploding with lust, love, and gratitude as his valve milked Rodimus’ spike for all it was worth.

Finally, Rodimus collapsed against Drift’s chassis, both of them heaving and gasping for breath. After a couple of minutes just lying there and venting, Drift was the first to speak up. “Wow,” he breathed.

Rodimus readjusted himself so that he could look up at Drift, who still had his optics closed. “You okay? Was that alright?”

Drift laughed lightly, half-opening his eyes. “That was better than ‘alright’, Rod. Get up here, you dork.”

With a tired, cheeky smile, Rodimus scooted up the other’s frame until his face was cradled against Drift’s cheek. He wrapped his arms around his trim waist and sighed happily, breathing in the scent of Drift’s sword polish and ozone. He sent out a warm pulse of affection towards his lover, and Drift returned it in kind. Rodimus smiled against his best friend’s throat.

“I think that’s the best first time I’ve had yet.”

Without looking up, Rodimus chuckled, “Oh yeah?”

“Mm. Yeah.”

Rodimus smiled and snuggled down against Drift, but was only able to lay there for a few minutes before the white mech started shifting restlessly.

“Hey, Roddy…” 

“Yeah?”

“…Didn’t you mention something about flipping me over and plowing me into the mattress?”

Rodimus laughed mirthfully and pressed a deep kiss to Drift’s lips. “Primus, what am I gonna do with you?”

Drift smirked and cocked a brow. “I just made a suggestion, you know…”

With another laugh, Rodimus helped Drift to roll over. “You are _such_ a dork.”

His response was a snort and an aft wiggling in his face. “Love you too.”

Gripping the hips in front of him and giving them a squeeze, Rodimus made good on his promise.


End file.
